


Old-Fashioned

by beeayy



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Food Crimes, Getting Together, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Living Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Season/Series 06, Slice of Life, Swing Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:16:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29979315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeayy/pseuds/beeayy
Summary: Jonas Quinn was a little antiquated by Earth standards. Teal’c didn’t mind at all.
Relationships: Jonas Quinn/Teal'c
Comments: 5
Kudos: 6





	Old-Fashioned

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MayGlenn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayGlenn/gifts).



Jonas Quinn was a little antiquated by Earth standards. Teal’c didn’t mind at all.

The traditional tendencies of the newest SG-1 member became readily apparent to Teal’c when he and Jonas Quinn both showed up to Major Carter’s birthday party wearing the same cowboy hat. Teal’c did not consider this a problem. After all, Teal’c’s hat was black, and Jonas Quinn’s was white. Also, they spent much of their time together wearing the same uniform. Today Jonas Quinn wore a button-up shirt, having committed to the aesthetic as much as Teal’c had with his red necktie. The outfit make him look like the Lone Ranger, and made Teal’c go a little lightheaded (he didn’t show it).

Upon arriving at the party and seeing him, Jonas Quinn immediately swept the hat off his head, just like they did in the old Westerns Colonel O’Niell showed him. It almost made Teal’c feel like the gesture was for him. Not because of him. There was a difference.

“I feel like I showed up to the prom wearing the same dress!” Jonas Quinn said. “I think you wear it better.”

Teal’c wanted to mention that Jonas Quinn wore tight black shirts and high-waisted cargo pants better, but didn’t say anything. Jonas Quinn merely abandoned the hat, then kept fixing his hair throughout the party. There was nothing wrong with his hair of course, nothing he was fixing anyway: the hat had left a line across the back of his head that his preening didn’t address. Teal’c considered mentioning it, as it might mean Jonas Quinn would return from the bathroom with his hair wet.

Not that Teal’c held any opinions on Jonas Quinn’s hair.

“Say, Teal’c—where do you get your hair done?” Jonas asked, while they were cutting the cake.

Teal’c blinked. “My hair…done?”

Jonas Quinn laughed. It warmed the room like Va’lar’s presence used to. “I mean—to get your head shaved? Back home I went to the barbershop every other week.” A shadow of homesickness passed over his face, that Teal’c only noticed because he often felt it himself. But then it was gone and he was glancing doubtfully at Jack O’Niell's messy hair and stubble. “Is… that a thing people do here?”

Teal’c opened his mouth to explain that he shaved his own head with a straight-razor by candlelight as a sacred cultural ritual. Usually on Tuesday nights. Instead he said, “I know of a place.” He did, after all, have his soul-patch phase. “I will show you.”

“Great! Thanks!” He looked Teal’c over then added, abruptly, “Rock Hudson wears a hat like that. Not exactly the exact same, but same shape.”

“I am not familiar with Rock Hudson,” Teal’c replied, calmly, but very concerned.

“He was a movie star here—thank God this planet has movies! I guess the ones I like are probably a little old-fashioned.”

“I still have not seen _Star Wars_ ,” Teal’c said, suddenly nervous. “It is also old-fashioned, but it is considered by some to be a Space Western.” He found himself growing dizzier still. “Perhaps, after the barbershop…?”

“Perfect!” Jonas beamed, and Teal’c basked in the sunshine of it a little too long. It made him feel as brave and as stupid as he had on those blue nights on Chulak long ago, when he felt like he could kill the gods himself, and take Va’lar with him.

*

The wonderful dizzy feeling that accompanied Jonas Quinn’s presence escalated when Teal’c decided to get a house. Major Carter and Colonel O’Niell had houses. His mental state would no doubt be much improved by enjoying the occasional sunset in lodging of his own. And it seemed only natural, for his first experience as an alien living out in the world, that he should have an alien roommate too. Jonas Quinn only got to see sunsets on the planets they visited, and when the lights dimmed on his fish tank. He felt just as homesick as Teal’c did. Maybe having a home on Earth among the Tau’ri would help him too.

These were definitely the only reasons that Teal’c obtained permission from General Hammond, and then extended the invitation.

Jonas Quinn literally jumped at the offer, ‘wagging his tail’ as Colonel O’Niell might say, though he clearly did not have a tail. They spent an afternoon checking out different options. Jonas Quinn marveled at built-in microwaves and clap-on lighting. They chose a two-bedroom house that looked like it had been built in the 1950s, with a porch and backyard and a white picket fence.

Moving in took Jonas Quinn about an hour and Teal’c about two weeks. He had accumulated much in the way of keepsakes, movies, and a large collection of hats, which delighted Jonas Quinn so much that he made the whole process of moving enjoyable. But Jonas Quinn’s presence brightened most activities. At the barbershop he had made friends with everyone instantly, chatting easily with the barber in a way that Teal’c could only admire and never imitate. And then he’d sat right next to Teal’c through all three _Star Wars_ movies on their movie night, laughing and talking without caring that Teal’c’s replies were much less frequent. No one was ever so unashamedly exuberant around him.

They would have many more nights like that, living together.

To thank him for helping out, Teal’c bought Jonas Quinn a state-of-the-art refrigerator, with a built-in ice maker, and a TV screen that Teal’c fully expected to be fixed on the weather channel at all times.

“Wow!” Jonas Quinn stared at it with his eyes wide. “Really? This is for me?”

“For us,” Teal’c said, slowly becoming aware it was too much, but careful not to show it. “You like the weather,” he said, trying to salvage the situation. “And humans seem to like unnaturally-occurring ice.”

“I love unnatural ice!” Jonas Quinn opened and shut the door a few times. “Thanks, Teal’c!”

“You’re welcome.”

They stood there, grinning at each other, the door sweeping back and forth between them.

“…I believe the refrigerator will not function properly with the door open.”

“Oh—right.” Jonas Quinn slammed the door.

*

The next evening Teal’c returned home (home, an excellent term to add to his daily thoughts) to see Jonas Quinn emerging from his new refrigerator with a large, extravagant, uh…

Jell-O tower?

“Feast your eyes,” he said, setting it on the table. There was a kitchen towel tossed over his shoulder, highlighting his impressive upper-body physique, which looked particularly chiseled next to the plate of wobbling gelatin.

“What is it?” Teal’c asked, eyeing the item suspiciously. There appeared to be carefully-constructed layers of green and red, and it had spots.

“It’s a Mold Salad!” Jonas Quinn replied.

Teal’c blinked at it. “I was not aware that Kelownans possessed the ability to consume microbial fungi.”

“No, I mean—Jell-O Salad? We call it Mold Salad. Figured you and I should do something a little special to celebrate the new fridge.” He pointed at the layers. “Lime gelatin, tomato soup, cream cheese, cucumbers, celery—I found this great copper mold at the antique shop down the street. Doesn’t it look great?”

“It’s—” Teal’c frowned at the quivering fluted mass. “—Interesting.”

“If all you’ve ever tried is the stuff they give you in the commissary, you’re in for a treat!” He pulled the chair out for Teal’c to sit down. “Come on! Be brave!”

“I am very brave, Jonas Quinn,” Teal’c insisted, and when the knife was fetched he cut himself a large slice and muscled down the entire portion.

“See?” Jonas Quinn said, already on his second helping as Teal’c completed his last bite. “It’s amazing, right?”

Teal’c carefully set down his fork. “Tomorrow we are getting steak.”

“That’s the beauty of this kind of meal,” Jonas Quinn said, “You could make a dozen Mold Salads for the price of one steak dinner—”

“Jonas Quinn,” Teal’c interrupted—gently, but firmly. “Tomorrow we are getting steak. I’ll buy.”

Jonas blinked. “…Sure.”

The Jell-O Salad slowly disappeared from the fridge over the week, somehow, with no help from Teal’c. In this way Jonas Quinn was a braver man than he. The antique copper mold now decorated the top of the fridge. Teal’c found himself smiling every time he looked at it.

*

“What are you watching?”

Teal’c had not yet been watching anything, flipping through channels somewhat idly. Colonel O’Niell and Major Carter both recently expressed to him that ‘channel-surfing’ was very relaxing. He wasn’t even really aware of what was on the screen when Jonas Quinn’s hands came down on his shoulders, leaning over the back of the couch to watch. Jonas Quinn had small hands and while not overly-tactile like some humans, was comfortable touching Teal’c much like Colonel O’Niell was. There was something fundamentally different about Jonas Quinn’s hands on his shoulders, however. It took him a second to focus on the TV.

“Country swing dancing.”

“That’s like the dancing we do at home!”

“It is not particularly popular anymore. Most people prefer hip hop and related dances.”

Jonas Quinn didn’t acknowledge this. His thumbs tapped out the beat on Teal’c’s shoulders, racing his pulse.

Just as Teal’c started to ask Jonas Quinn to join him, the hands left his shoulders and he heard footsteps disappearing. Teal’c pushed away the pang of disappointment, and started to change the channel.

Something came spinning toward his head as Jonas Quinn shouted, “Heads up!” Teal’c caught the thing in one handed.

It was his fedora hat.

“We’re going dancing,” Jonas Quinn announced. He was wearing his cowboy hat.

“…Dancing.” Teal’c looked down at the hat. “I do not know how to dance.”

“Oh, it’s easy, I’ll show you! I know all those steps.”

“Anyone dancing those steps will be much older than you.”

“But they’ll all be much younger than you!” And there was that gorgeous grin again, like a vintage Tau’ri advertisement. Like a model consumer in a capitalist society, Teal’c found himself unable to resist.

The closest thing to a dance hall they could find was a nightclub. They were the only ones couple dancing, but either Jonas Quinn’s smile or Teal’c’s stature kept anyone from complaining. Country swing dancing involved lots of jumps and lifts, and Teal’c was more than up to the challenge, Jonas Quinn weighing very little in comparison to the strength his symbiote provided. They went home at midnight with Jonas Quinn humming to himself and Teal’c thinking about his hands on Jonas Quinn’s waist. They were both going to regret this at 0600 hours, but neither did now.

“Thanks for coming along,” Jonas Quinn said as he headed to bed.

“You’re welcome, Jonas,” Teal’c replied. Jonas didn’t seem to notice the name change, and smiled like the sun all the same.

*

“…That’s what you’re getting him?”

Colonel O’Niell looked skeptical at Teal’c’s choice of gift which was not helpful as Colonel O’Niell was skeptical about most things. They were in Kansas City on work-related travel, but visiting the World War II gift shop in their spare time, and since Jonas Quinn was not permitted to come along…

“Jonas likes to cook,” Teal’c replied. “And he has an orange lava lamp. I assumed it was his favorite color.”

“Yeah, I guess it’d have to be,” Major Carter said, though more fondly even as she examined the apron Teal’c was holding up. It was a 1940s design, tangerine orange with cheerful yellow polka dots like a thousand suns. It began in a very rudimentary sense to describe what Jonas’s smiles made Teal’c feel.

“Isn’t it kinda frilly?” Colonel O’Niell complained. “All the frills…”

“You know, I can actually see him in this,” Major Carter said, “And those aren’t frills, they’re pleats. What’s this gift for again? We haven’t even been gone a week.”

“I do not need a reason to buy Jonas a gift.”

Teal’c felt even more triumphant when Jonas unwrapped the gift and immediately tied it around his waist.

“You gotta stop buying me stuff,” Jonas said, looking very much like he never wanted Teal’c to stop.

“You’re welcome,” was all Teal’c would reply—and in fifteen minutes, Jonas made them mug cakes (apparently more authentic Langaran food than cupcakes, and one way in which Jonas was ahead of the times: individual microwavable cakes in every-day ceramic felt wonderfully futuristic).

“So this is like…” Jonas gestured to the space between them on the couch with his spoon. “A thing, right?”

“A thing?”

“Yeah.” Jonas flashed a smile that came and went in half a second. “This thing between us?”

“Yes.” Teal’c frowned. “I believe it is simply referred to as the middle cushion.”

Jonas watched him very closely, and Teal’c wondered if he possibly missed something. The Kelownans did seem to be better with metaphorical concepts than he was. After a moment he said, “Well, and our feet,” after which they proceeded to measure the respective sizes of their socked feet by pressing their soles together. Surprisingly, Jonas’s toes just barely outstripped Teal’c’s. Jonas seemed quite proud of this.

Teal’c was probably worrying over nothing.

*

Teal’c couldn’t fail to notice how nice Jonas liked to keep the house. It was probably a Kelownan custom. He found Jonas stretching up on his tiptoes to dust the ceiling fan, faithful apron protecting his sweatpants. Without thinking Teal’c grabbed him around the waist and lifted him like he did on the dance floor.

“You’re way too good at that,” Jonas said, when he finished dusting and Teal’c put him down. Jonas’s hands brushed dust off his shoulders then just rested there a second. Perhaps more like two seconds. It didn’t seem nearly long enough to explore the juxtaposition of their bodies—broad and thin, curved and sharp...

Jonas ended the moment by feather-dusting the top of Teal’c’s head. Teal’c’s focus shifted to chasing Jonas down to stuff the feather duster down his shirt.

*

“Jonas Quinn.” He now only used Jonas’s full name when he was in trouble. Jonas still didn’t notice any difference, glancing up from folding his laundry with a perfectly-innocent expression.

“Yeah?”

“These are not my shirts.” Teal’c held up one, a black t-shirt that looked the same as the one he put into the dryer earlier. Only that shirt had been a size 2X, and the one in his hands was a Child’s Medium at best.

“Nope, the clothes in the hamper are yours,” Jonas said with a shrug. “Maybe they shrunk.”

“They did not shrink. I tumble dry low. You were offended I called your shirts small and decided to shrink mine.”

Jonas shrugged. “Maybe you shrunk them yourself.”

“These are your shirts!” Teal’c insisted, getting quite angry now.

“You made an honest mistake with the washing. It happens to the best of us. Maybe you can stretch it out again. Have you tried putting it on?”

“Observe!” Teal’c said, fuming, attempting to pull the shirt on, only succeeding at tearing it apart like Godzilla with a hot air balloon. Shreds of fabric went flying. Jonas exploded into laughter. It was so adorable that a second later Teal’c burst out laughing too. Apparently the Langarans had a more Jaffa sense of humor than the Tau’ri.

An ache that Va’lar and Shan’auc and Drey’auc left inside of him faded a little at that.

*

Teal’c had an opportunity to get back at Jonas soon after, when Jonas called Teal’c into the backyard with a hushed voice and tense expression. They crept outside and Jonas pointed, carefully, at the pavement. A toad sat near the drainspout, staring at nothing.

“What is it?” Jonas asked, half amazed and half terrified.

“That is a toad, Jonas.”

“Oh. We, uh, don’t have toads on Kelowna. Do I need to get rid of it? This planet has pesticides, right?”

“Toads are a beneficial addition to any garden, and many are threatened by loss of habitat. Wash your hands if you choose to touch it.”

“Uh. Yeah, don’t worry, I’m not touching thaAAAAT!!” This increase in pitch and volume was accompanied by the toad hopping about a foot horizontally, and Jonas leaping two feet vertically. He immediately scrambled back behind Teal’c.

“Earth is weird,” he managed, half a whisper. “It’s weird, right?”

“Agreed,” Teal’c assured him.

That night Teal’c made sure Jonas found a rubber one in his bed. The ensuing scream woke up half the neighborhood. Teal’c had never laughed so hard in his life.

*

Teal’c was helping Major Carter and Doctor Frasier clean out the doctor’s basement when he found the book.

“Oh, that was my grandmother’s,” Doctor Frasier said, grinning at the gold-leaf cover as Teal’c brushed it off.

“ _Book of Etiquette_?” Teal’c read, uncertain. “Do the Tau’ri need a book to learn such things?”

“I guess not. It was an old-timey thing.” She grinned. “Take it! Might help you learn about us Tau’ri.”

Teal’c examined the contents, discovering a surprising variety of topics within, including cooking, cleaning, and entertaining. Jonas liked all of these things, and old-fashioned things, and books. So Teal’c wrapped it and presented it to him. Maybe as an apology for the toad thing. Maybe not.

Jonas gave him a long look, eyes narrowed. Teal’c was…well, he had been married. He did possibly know what that look meant.

Not that he and Jonas were married.

Teal’c ignored the look, then went along with the rest of his evening, and after a while Jonas acted as if this was all perfectly normal. Which it was.

*

The next night Teal’c arrived home later than anticipated, to the smell of dinner—but dinner that had been cooked some time ago. Jonas was washing dishes in the kitchen, listening to the radio slightly louder than normal.

“Hey, where were you?” Jonas asked as Teal’c stepped inside.

“I was working with Major Carter on one of her research projects.” Teal’c paused, checking his watch. It was actually a hour later than he thought it was.

“Oh.” A pause. “I made dinner.”

Teal’c frowned. He felt like a young man being caught out by Bra’tac for some inconsequential oversight. “I was not aware I was required home at any specific time.”

“Yeah, but I make dinner for us almost every weekday,” Jonas said.

“You are not required to do so.”

“Well, aren’t we—?” His neck turned very red. He went back to scrubbing dishes. “Never mind.”

It only took Jonas a few minutes to return to his usual cheerful self. It took Teal’c tossing and turning all night just to stop thinking about how Jonas’s gaze kept flicking away every time Teal’c looked at him. Teal’c knew enough from his days as a Jaffa to recognize his attempts to hide his injury, even if it was only an emotional one.

The next day, he rose early, and returned with a large bunch of orange flowers from the nearby supermarket.

“I apologize for last night,” Teal’c announced as Jonas rose to make breakfast, feeling a bit like a Jaffa presenting a gift to his Goa’uld master.

Jonas blinked a couple of times, then laughed—and for Teal’c everything was alright again. “Thanks!” he took the flowers, and then slowly his smile faded. Teal’c’s chest tightened.

“Do you like them?”

“Definitely,” Jonas assured him, then said, “Do you know what I was actually upset about?” Another human might have said, ‘Do you _even_ know,’ but Jonas was socially adept, possibly more so than anyone else in SG-1. The smile even came back. It was still an absurd question.

“Obviously, you are upset because I missed dinner.”

“I’m upset that you didn’t let me know.” Jonas lowered the flowers. “Teal’c, am I the housewife here, or something?”

Jonas said it gently—he said everything gently. It still felt like being burned with hot coals.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, the flowers, the apron…?” Jonas grinned. “I mean we’re kind of going out of order, we skipped straight from puppy love to keeping house like we’re—"

“You are presuming too much.” Teal’c felt his muscles tightening as if preparing for a fight. “If you do not want the flowers I will return them.”

Jonas shook his head. “That’s not that I—”

“I will return them,” Teal’c said, and snatched them away.

“Teal’c, I—”

“Do not, Jonas Quinn!” Teal’c snapped, suddenly, fiercely, his skin hot and his symbiote writhing.

Jonas froze. He seemed to notice the name change now. Or perhaps being confronted by Teal’c’s temper actually did frighten him. Teal’c did not stay to ask. He just turned and stalked out of the house. If Jonas Quinn hadn’t meant so much to him, he might have behaved better. As it was, he dropped the flowers in a trashcan on the way to work that morning.

*

Teal’c did not meet Jonas Quinn’s eye as they were briefed on a new mission. He did on the mission, however, when he saved Jonas Quinn’s life.

On Planet M01-306, Jonas Quinn froze up. He had been getting better, but bravery was a skill like any other and his analytical mind put him at a disadvantage to take decisive action in moments of crisis. In this case it was either to charge the giant toad-like beast rushing at SG-1 or dodge out of the way, and Jonas Quinn did neither. Teal’c couldn’t help wondering if their argument was a contributing factor. _Do not_ could mean a lot of things.

Teal’c leapt between him and the monster and frightened it off with a couple quick shots of his staff weapon. He didn’t realize until after the creature fled that he’d pulled Jonas Quinn against him, and that Jonas Quinn was doing his best to look manly while clutching Teal’c’s tactical vest.

“Are you alright?” Teal’c asked, then babbled, “This is my fault.”

Jonas Quinn cut him off with a breathless laugh. “No, you’re good. I’m fine. We’re all good.” He cleared his throat. “I uh, I just _really_ don’t like toads.” He grinned. Teal’c did not deserve it, and pulled away.

*

Teal’c arrived home to a dark house. It… smelled strange, though. Possibly the neighbors, possibly mold. His symbiote gave him keen senses. He followed the smell, and found Jonas Quinn sitting at the table in the backyard, stirring a pot of something with a long fork.

“Is this one of Major Carter’s projects?” he asked, seeing stacks of perfectly-cut cubes of bread.

“Fondue, actually,” Jonas said. “It’s perfect romance food.”

Teal’c felt himself going red. “I will stay at SG-1 tonight,” he said, and turned to go.

“Hey!” This time Jonas didn’t freeze, in fact he jumped in front of Teal’c, blocking his path. “Come on. I got you all the way out here.”

“Get out of my way, Jonas,” Teal’c growled, only belatedly adding, “Quinn.”

Jonas didn’t even flinch. “Hey, I don’t freeze up twice.”

“…You did with that giant toad.”

“Okay, regular sized toad and giant toad, totally different!” Jonas laughed. He put his hands on Teal’c’s shoulders like they were dancing. “At least try it.”

Teal’c obeyed. The fondue turned out to be melted cheese, but nothing like the melted cheese offered in the commissary. Teal’c devoured one plate of bread cubes and fondue while Jonas sat beside him, apparently happy with the silence. Teal’c felt his panic fade and his shame grow.

“So what is going on between us?” Jonas asked, then pointed at him with the fork, “Besides air, and air-borne particulates like pollen and pollution. And this fork.”

Teal’c frowned down at his lap. He had an idea of what Jonas meant now. “Nothing.”

“Is that true? Because I thought we were going steady since we had that movie night.”

“Going steady?”

“Uh—dating? What do they call it on Chulak?”

“Getting married.”

“…Right.” Jonas laughed. “Well that makes sense. It felt like we went straight to the old-married-couple stage. Call me old-fashioned, but I like to get to know who I’m dating, first.”

Jonas had his arm around the back of Teal’c’s chair now. Teal’c felt himself growing warm but—in a good way. “It has been a long time since…” Teal’c realized belatedly that he was not at all prepared for this. “On Chulak, I had little leisure time to consider such things. And I wasn’t sure that…that _this_ was anything.” Teal’c paused. “Have you been trying to court me with food this whole time?”

“It’s a perfectly legitimate method of impressing a potential romantic partner and—oh wow. I sound like that etiquette book.”

Teal’c found himself laughing which at least helped Jonas’s shoulders relax.

“Look,” Jonas managed, “If we were back home we’d have a chaperone and I wouldn’t get a chance to play jokes with your laundry until the wedding. I think we’re both a little out of our depth here.”

“We are SG-1,” Teal’c said, fondly. He dragged Jonas’s chair toward him with Jonas in it, making his eyes go wide and that lovely sunny grin return. “We will persevere, and prevail.”

*

To maintain his traditional values, Jonas Quinn moved out the next day into an apartment of his own, with promises to take Teal'c out on a 'proper' date that evening. It took about an hour. Teal'c didn't mind at all.

After all, it would probably only take him an hour to move back in.

**Author's Note:**

> There's no reason Jonas would be afraid of toads but he did jump at the bugs in that one ep and I'm extrapolating. 
> 
> I feel quite honored that I'm like the third person to post for this particular ship! :) Thanks so much for reading! Comments appreciated!


End file.
